To The Four Winds
by Mona
Summary: In 995, Oberon banished the Third Race from Avalon, but how did some of them feel about the exile? A mini-fic, starring Puck.


"To The Four Winds"   
  
Disclaimer: The characters of Gargoyles are (c) Disney. I do not own them, though I wouldn't mind owning certain ones. A few of the fays that appear in this short tale are my creations, but are based on the original legends. For example, the Snow Queen is from the Hans Christian Andersen story. In Southeastern Native American folklore, the rabbit was a trickster figure. So I made Bunny, a female trickster fay. Anyway, on with the story.  
  
It was early 995, at least, in the regular world. But on the magical island of Avalon, time itself was detached from the "real" world.   
  
The island's residents had gathered on the beach.   
  
"Humility!" The single word seemed offensive to one particular fay. "Why does Oberon say we need humility?" The speaker was dressed in a red robe as fiery as her temper. She had dark skin and wheat-brown hair.   
  
"Tensions have grown ever since our king and queen's divorce," Luna, one of the trio known as the Weird Sisters, spoke.   
  
"I know!" The fairy in red, named Pele, retorted. She had a taste for gossip and, as one of Queen Titania's ladies in waiting, had plenty of opportunity to collect it.   
  
"Titania," Phoebe began. "Has our lord wrapped around her finger, even when they're quarreling."   
  
Selene finished the thought. "So he takes it out on the rest of us."   
  
"Not you three," Pele muttered. "You get to stay behind and guard the island. Why?"   
  
"I'll tell you why..." came a voice. Everyone in earshot groaned.   
  
It was Robin Goodfellow, better known as Puck. "You three kiss up to Big Daddy-O."   
  
The Weird Sisters gave identical scowls.   
  
Pele continued. "Why did he say we all need humility? I'm humble."   
  
This made the Puck laugh. "You need humility like a virus needs a host cell."   
  
The insult bounced off the scarlet-cloaked fairy, who rested a hand on the white-haired trickster's shoulder. "I guess exile isn't so bad if I spend it with you." Pele had a crush on Puck, which was famously unrequited. The trickster preferred mischief making to amorous pursuits. And he wasn't shy about saying so.   
  
"You have ten seconds to get your tentacle off me," Puck said calmly and evenly. "Ten...nine...eight...one!"   
  
"Yeowch!" Pele yanked her hand back. It was covered in ice. Needless to say, Pele had been born in a volcano and frost wasn't exactly one of her favorite things.   
  
"At least a thousand and one years is better than what Empress Mab got," a brunette known simply as the Snow Queen commented. Her voice was cold, emotionless -- almost a monotone. "And what's time to an immortal?"   
  
Pele shivered. "How can you say the M-word with such a straight face? Lord Oberon overthrew his own mother and banished her for all eternity. Can we say totalitarian?"  
  
Meanwhile, other Children of Oberon were departing the island. One by one, each would board a vessel and fade into the mists. Titania had been the first to leave. Oberon stood at the edge of the beach, observing his subjects. The steel gaze was almost condescending. He knew no one would disobey -- not even his executive thorn-in-the-side, Puck. Though the Gathering reunion might be another matter. Some of them might forget their ties to their Master in the thousand years of exile.   
  
"What's all the fuss about?" Puck asked. "I look at it as an opportunity. Avalon may be a paradise, but in sooth...it's boring! Nothing but nothing happens here! The real world is unpredictable. Who knows? Maybe our resident Ice Princess will fall in love."  
  
"In love?" The Snow Queen snorted indignantly. "Oberon decreed that no mortal would ever marry me."   
  
The trickster knew he had gotten under her skin. "I'd ask why you care more about what the blue windbag says than what your heart feels, but you don't exactly have a heart."   
  
"Or maybe I don't want the wrath of the 'blue windbag' crashing down on my head. Emotions are overrated anyway," answered the icy fay. She crossed the sandy beach. Her foot touched the water, forming a medium-sized ice floe. "Farewell, all." The current carried the ice and its passenger away.   
  
More and more fays departed, until only a few were left.   
  
A shy girl, Amanterasu, finally spoke. "Why is Oberon banishing himself?"   
  
Bunny, a female trickster with long white hair and a twitchy nose, shrugged. "To share the experience of living among mortals? I don't mind humans myself. I find them funny."   
  
"Human life is finite," Luna observed.   
  
"They have no magic capabilities," added Selene.   
  
"A race more greedy and quarrelsome should not be allowed to live," finished Phoebe.   
  
"They are inferior," all three chorused.   
  
Puck gave a bow and his characteristic grin. "Have fun with the Sleeping King." He boarded one of the wooden skiffs. "Send me a postcard, ya three stooges!" He ducked three blasts of green fire, and sailed off. The trickster turned and gazed back at his birthplace, not knowing it'd be a last look. His thoughts drifted off as the dense fog surrounded him. _I wonder if I'll run into anyone else.   
  
Probably. A thousand years is a long time, even to an immortal. And I know myself. The Puck can never perform just one act, or stay in one place. A thousand years of merriment await me, maybe more if I can please the Big Cheese. Sure, provoking the Banshee into wailing until she lost her voice, irking the emotionless Snow Queen, or telepathically placing hot coals in Odin's bed was amusing. But playing jokes on the rest of the Third Race got repetitive. Except giving Oberon headaches -- that never got old. For the time being, the trickster wasn't going to think about the eventual Gathering, when the party was over.  
  
_The end. 


End file.
